All those words

Still crying, with pauses in between. Or maybe it's just the cigarette smoke, I don't know. But I feel so unbelievably sad. I can't take any pills for sadness, and there's no use in trying any antidepressants either. I dunno what my doctor can possibly tell me that I don't already know, at our next meeting on the 28th.

I was a bit upset when I got the note that I am to see her so late into January. She was supposedly back to work on the 8th so can't blame it on that. I suppose I just wasn't a priority.

Damn, I just wanna disappear somewhere. I don't wanna talk to anyone, don't want your simple tips on what I can do, I already have lots of lists with both good and bad things to do in a crisis like this. Well, maybe it's not so much of an actual crisis, but when cutting isn't enough (like now) I usually end up doing worse things, and that would be a crisis.

I wish I could be silent forever, to never speak a word again. Words are so pointless. Language is so pointless. They say the human mind cannot grasp what words cannot tell. I don't wanna say this because I'm otherkin, but I do grasp a lot of what words cannot tell. And that's why I find it so meaningless, cause words have no longer any meaning when none of them are enough to communicate with.

But I can't. I can't just decide to stop speaking. Of course people wouldn't call me that often anymore, but they would be banging on my door just as much instead. They would become more frustrated than I would be, given only nods or head shakes, short sentences written with a trembling hand.

People think that talking could cure mental illness. How wrong they are. "People" who are supposed to be educated in psychology, who have read shit loads of books on the subject for years, practised as psychologists or therapists or whatever, talked to lots of various broken people. "People" who should by all means know better than I do. I'm a hobby counsellor reading heavy students literature for fun, and I know that words can't cure anything.

Or am I just being subjective now? Because after years of seeing several so called "specialists" on the minds of humans haven't helped me even the least bit? Well, I finally got a psychologist, for the first time someone who actually knows more than I do. That is just sad. That I know/knew more about psychology than all those various counsellors I've met up until now. But most of all, I know that knowledge hasn't give me any solace.

So what, I have Aspergers. I know about it, and I know what you're supposed to do to make living with it easier. But you know what? None of that shit works on me cause I'm also an emotionally unstable, depressive, transgendered full time self harmer with split personality, who hears voices and believes that he's a demon. What do you do to "cure" that? Nothing. There is no cure for freaks like me.

Moments of clarity

My heart is hurting, it feels like my heart hurts. And I don't even know why, it's just painful. Yeah, maybe I do know why, but it's easier to escape it, easier to just run away from it. But I try not to. Just stay here, indulge in the pain and let it hurt me. Let it tear me to pieces.

I don't know why I think I should stay in the emotion, but maybe a part of me wants me to suffer. Be torn to pieces over and over until there won't be any excuses left. No reasons to pretend, no lies left to cover it up. The so very real, bleeding truth revealing. Taking over everything. Making true everything that I believe in, showing the real fucked me that I've been trying to humanise. For I am not human and I will never be. My false hopes of just being totally damaged falls apart and I realise once again that this is not only what I've become, but what I've always been.

Sure I have the typical traits of a human being, but just look at me. There are too many contradictions and impossibilities to look past. Things about me that just shouldn't be possible, yet they are. I believe in what I am in my days of clarity, and I accept that I'm different beyond reason, cause I know why I am here. I have discovered the answer to one of the most mysterious questions humans have asked themselves since the dawn of time. I know why I am here, my purpose, the meaning of my life.

But it brings me no comfort, no happiness or joy. I believe that I hold all the answers to all the questions I carry, but answers alone has never brought me anything. A great discovery is only great in the moment you discover it. Then you sit there and ask yourself "And? So what, what does it even matter? How does this change anything?"

For the path you are meant to follow is the path you are already walking.

The question about the meaning of life is thrilling, mysterious and alluring. But the answer is simple, stupid and disappointing. It's like the question of what makes the world so beautiful and harmonic? And the answer is just a bunch of numbers. Or how do you learn to live with anxiety, depression, phobias, sleep disorders and the like? Simply let go. The answer is expected to be astonishing, thought provoking and marvellous. And all there is, is something you shrug at. A disappointment.

I ask myself "was it even worth it?" all those years of searching for my purpose. No... or maybe it was, I don't know. But it certainly was a disappointment. Much like most people I expected something amazing, something that would change my life or at least my view on life. But if I know so much, what really is my purpose? To know more. What kind of idea of a joke is that!? The message is simply that I can never get enough knowledge and understanding, and I'm here to fill in the gaps. I hate and can't stand humans, yet I'm here to understand them. To live among them and learn as much as I can about them.

Cause what if you don't like what the great beyond has set out for you? What if you don't want to walk that path, and there's no way to escape it? It's the fucking meaning of your life, it is why you are here. Would you really want to know? Would you...?

Cause I hate my fucking purpose.

Out of my hands

So I’ve been trying to install this PC game “Alice Madness Returns” that I’ve had lying around for a while. But it's so fucked up just trying to install the shit and making it work! I don't understand what I’m doing wrong! Ended up screaming at the top of lungs that I hate it, hate it so fucking much, why can't it be easy, why can't anything ever be easy?  Suddenly understand why I just stick to WoW and never try anything new... it's so much hassle around it, it's so damn frustrating it's just not worth it. But I really wanna give this game a chance. But how am I supposed to do that when everything just keeps buggering? Something or someone is feeding me anxiety, and I think it is God. That fucker.

What he fuck is wrong with me today?! I’ve had three anger outburst in less than 15 minutes, my throat hurts, my fists and fingers hurt, as well as everything inside me. I thought yesterday was a bad day... Today seem to be worse, at least it started off worse, it's still only morning. I can't press the keyboard keys any harder, yet I still miss out letters! It's like those old typing machines you basically need a frigging hammer to make the ink stick on the paper. Yeah I have one of those, from the 60's or 70's I think. Perhaps even from the 50's.

There's just not enough anxiolytic drugs in the goddamn world for what I feel today. Just bloody kill me! I can't even use OpenOffice without raging. It crashed repeatedly (it's never done that before). I guess it's just the document that has gotten too big, or how to say it. However, I won't use it anymore today. There should be a page limit for when it starts crashing. It seems to be somewhere around 30-40 pages.

Fuck it all. All this shit just reminds me of why I never want to do anything at all out of the ordinary. It's not Asperger or any other mental disorder shit, it's because everything just fucks up all the damn time. My ability to be a complete failure just makes wanna crawl into a cocoon and stay there for the rest of my miserable life.

It's just one of those days, huh? There some to be quite many of those, don't you think? I'm sooo damn close to just give it all up again. Say "fuck you and all your shit" to life itself and jump off a roof top. Cause all this shit isn't worth enduring for the few things that are good in life. I can count those on one hand, but the everything negative is countless. Fucking countless!

I don't just have a little anxiety, I don't know what's going on to be honest. A lot of anxiety, so damn much I can't even begin to comprehend it. I know it's out of my hands when I'm popping pills until I'm constantly drugged and cutting myself until I'm constantly bleeding. The anxiety is eating me alive, it's fucking eating me alive. Why can't these damn pills work!? Why am I even paying for them?! I can swear they're all made of sugar, or fake sugar, cause otherwise they'd make me fat.